


FFS

by MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden



Series: Curse My Magic [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Am I doing this right?, Explicit Language, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, My First Smut, POV Third Person Omniscient, Teasing, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden/pseuds/MedusaOblongata_IreMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a trip to Crestwood uncovers a Venatori plot to take Caer Bronach, Evelyn sends her party to evacuate the fort. Ambush and injury leave her and Cullen taking refuge in the cavern Stroud used to hide out in. Tempers flare and some long overdue issues are addressed.<br/>"It's literature. Smutty literature."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, Comments, & Constructive Criticism always welcomed and appreciated. ❤Dusa

Evelyn had spent the last few hours tending to Cullen while he slept. Alternating between healing spells and a paste she made from elfroot and embrium. His electrical burns were fading with each cycle, and the deep lacerations had finally sealed over. _Lightning cage,_ she thought, _gotta teach Dorian that one. That is, if I ever get back to Skyhold._  
  
Cullen began to stir in his sleep, murmuring, with heavy breath. _Another_ _nightmare_ , she frowned. _I had no idea his lyrium withdrawal was still affecting him so. He never complains... or maybe just not to me. Perhaps I should speak to Cassandra when I return_. She looked down and pressed her hand against his bare chest, releasing waves of healing energy through him like a gentle heartbeat. He stilled, calmer breaths rising in his chest. _Or maybe it's not my place,_ Evelyn thought, standing; wiping her humming hands on her robes.  She turned away, unsteady hands now trying to rub the tension out of her brows and temples. _He only told me out of a sense of duty in the first place_.  
  
She walked over to a small table and crossed her arms on it, then laid her forehead on them, cradling her own face. She was exhausted. Evelyn sighed heavily and turned her head to the side, drifting into a light slumber as night fell outside the cave.  
  
...  
  
Cullen winced as he peeled his eyes open, suddenly very aware he was in a great deal of pain. "Fucking Venatori," he spat, trying to sit himself up. Before him, facing away, stood the inquisitor. Her long, deep red hair swinging loosley around her shoulder blades, instead of in its usual frayed bun. She turned on heel, gentle green eyes studying him, an eased smile poorly hiding her worry.  
  
She approached and knelt before him, placing a soft fingertip against his fried skin. "Oow!" Cullen jumped back with a little hiss.  
"Sorry," she grimaced, leaning close again with an open palm facing him. "Let me heal you," she almost whispered.  
He hesitated, but after a moment gave a slight nod, and  she immediately began to build energy within her hand, forming a shimmering fluorescent green orb. It grew bigger and darker, less transparent. The sparkles began to fade and the orb started to rotate as it expanded. Cullen felt an unease growing in his gut as he stared, transfixed, at her magic. It was engulfing parts of them now, her forearms and knees, his chest and lap; her eyes peered eerily at him over the grey swirling magic; it kept spreading. His heart was pounding against his chest, what was she doing? The orb expanded rapidly, with a burst of energy, surrounding them in swirling patterns of dark gray and black. It looked like smoke, but there was no fire. "Evelyn?!" He shouted over the buzz of her magic. She looked up at him from beneath pointed brows, green eyes now menancing. An evil sneer curled around her lips as she produced a dagger from her free hand and dragged it across her own arm, opening an enormous gash and sending blood swirling around them. The smoky orb turned crimson as a  deep red rune appeared between them and Evelyn, laughing triumphantly, turned the dagger towards Cullen.  
  
"Your turn," she smirked, leaping towards him and sinking it deep into the base of his neck. Cullen's head and back hit the hard ground as he screamed out in terror, Evelyn's sneer burning to memory as she followed him down twisting the blade towards his collar bone, her red locks whipping wildly in the whirlwind of blood and smoke. Air fled his lungs, his vision locked on her blood red lips, parted in seductive admiration, until his sight went blurry, then faded to darkness.  
  
His eyes sealed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen's eyes shot open; lungs gasping for breath; torso lurching forward; hands searching desperately for the wound at his neckline. Relief swept over him as he took in his surroundings. "Another nightmare," he breathed more steadily. Across the cave he saw Evelyn draped over a table. She lifted her head to the sounds of him stirring and turned to face him. She smiled wearily, her sloppy bun losing purchase as strands of hair fell into her face. He searched her for any sign of the menancing blood mage that plagued his sleep, but found only the full red lips.  
  
"I must look a mess," she chuckled at his lingering gaze.  
  
He scoffed and shook his head. "You're a welcome sight, trust me."  He sat up straighter, stretching his arms and shoulders, wincing as certain movements pulled tender skin tight. He looked down at the marks on his chest, arms, and torso. The lacerations from the electric that threatened to strangle the life out of him were now closed and well on the way to healing. A goopy paste was caked on his raw flesh, starting to crust and flake along the edges. He poked at it with a dirt encrusted finger, chipping away small pieces curiously, until the dirt beneath his nails caught his eye. He frowned at his bicep and fingertips. Their quaint quarters certainly weren't any good for hygiene.  
  
Evelyn lazily slid out of her chair and wandered over to him. Sitting on her feet at the end of his bed roll, she reached out to the injured arm Cullen seemed so befuddled by. He involuntarily recoiled before her fingers met his skin and when she looked at his face she could see the uncertainty clearly plastered there. "You still don't trust mages," she breathed evenly. More an observation than an accusation, though it struck a cord. His face hardened, body tensed, and she withdrew her arm to her own personal space.  
  
"How could I?" His voice was cold and brittle, stinging her nerves. She had known, but the words still hurt to hear.  
  
Evelyn stood up and walked away, curling her arms around herself in a defensive stance. Her bun fell loose and her hair swept down across her back. Cullen felt his eye twinge. He'd seen this before. He shook his head, trying to keep the two separate. "I don't know," she finally stated trying to hide her hurt beneath a fog of anger, "maybe because they helped seal the breach."  
  
Cullen's fear and temper gripped him, forcing him to his feet. He was momentarily surprised by his steadiness after his hobblings yesterday, but anger quickly regained focus, "caused by magic," he spat.  
  
Evelyn's mouth dropped open, _Appalling! He'd compare the work of all mages to the delusions of Corypheus!_ She spun around, brow furrowed, arms out to her sides now, hands clenched tightly. "How dare you." Her heart was pounding in her chest and fingertips. If mages could cast with their eyes, he'd have been reduced to ash.  
  
He wasn't deterred. "The conclave, Magic. The attack on the keep yesterday. Mages. MY SOLDIERS scorched to bits before my very eyes. VENATORI." He stepped towards her, until they were just a pace apart, fire in his eyes like she'd never seen. A caged lion, pacing in its cell. Ire swallowed down her fear, and she stood tall as he closed the space between them. "Every terrible thing thats ever happened to Thedas can be traced back to MAGIC," he roared.  
  
Tears stung at her eyes. "DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT!" She snapped, whipping a trembling hand out to her side with a tantrum of rift magic, slamming everything perched along the rocks into the wall. Papers scattered, books clamored to the floor, the clay bowls she had used for making salves smashed to bits in a cloud of red dust and fury.  
  
Cullen grabbed her tightly around the wrist with one hand and sank the other deep into her hair, jerking her head back and leaning her into an uncomfortable arch so he towered over her. Rage exchanged in ferocious glares and snarled lips. His muscular arms glistened with a light sweat, flexing slightly as he panted through clenched teeth. Neither backed down.

Instinctively, her free hand shot up to his throat, squeezing against his adam's apple. Her palms were already ice cold, magic burning against his flesh. Her marked hand crackled with energy, reacting to her stress.  
  
"I do not need a lyrium vial to drain you," he choked out.  
  
"I do not need mana to kill you," her restrained hand thundered to life with a green glow, emphasizing her point.  
  
The cold around his neck turned icy sharp. Cullen tightened his grip and clenched his jaw, summoning the lyrium reserved within his veins to draw the mana from her body. Her grip faltered as the first twinge of silence set in. Her eyes went wide, mouth falling open as the air compressed from her chest. Power swelled within him, he felt stronger, faster, more alert. His body buzzed with her stolen lifeforce. It was like a lyrium potion, but purer and without the bitterness. Her legs gave out and she stumbled to the ground, still wretching for breath, dragging the Commander with her. Her free hand had slid down his chest, until she couldn't bear the weight and it collapsed at her side. He had managed to keep one foot on the ground during their descent; she was doubled over, barely able to remain upright. Her vision dimmed, consciousness fading, relief in reach, yet, just before fainting, he let her go. Her upper body fell sideways to the ground with a solid thud. She gasped madly, coughing and sputtering as the air stung her deprived lungs. She started to hoist herself onto an elbow, but a strong arm grabbed her shoulder and pushed her to her back, a puff of dust rising up around them. He straddled her and planted his knees in either palm, hands on either shoulder, fiery eyes burrowed into her.  
  
"I think you had it too easy in Ostwick. Clearly you haven't been silenced in quite some time. Maybe the templars there are weak. Maybe they turned a blind eye because you're nobility." His eyes narrowed into something more trecherous, "or maybe you kept them sated with a quick dip of the wick from time to time."  
  
Evelyn's face curled into a snarl. She wriggled under him uselessly, her body weak and drained. "Eat Shit Templar Deserter!" He slammed her shoulders into the stone floor as flecks of spit speckled his face, driving an "oomph" from her chest.  
  
"Vile Maleficar," slithered from gritted teeth.  
  
Her body jerked, she felt like she'd been stabbed in the chest. Her scowl now mixed with hurt and shock. She shook her head and came biting back, "I didn't know anyone still used that word. You really are older than you let on."  
  
"It's reserved especially for tainted little cunts like yourself," he growled into her ear. Ruthless.  
  
Evelyn's bravado all but naught, fear and pain gripped hard in her belly as she layed helpless on the cold ground. The only weapons she had left, quick wit and sharp tongue, were failing her. _Think think think..._  
  
_Wait. Are those my only weapons remaining?_ She bit her lip and closed her eyes. A silent plea to a maker she wasn't completely sure she believed in, then a turn of the head and she sunk her teeth into his whiskered neck, pinching a wad of skin and sucking it into her mouth, before lapping at the wounded flesh in (half) apology and caressing it between her full, sun-chapped lips.  
  
He froze above her, petrified like ancient wood. By fear? By shock? By joy? Arousal? What exactly was is that gripped him now? _Why would she? Maker, she feels amazing_. A stuttered breath fell from his lips.  
  
The sudden heat of his breath on her neck, that whimpered breath he couldn't control, plucked at some primal string wrapped 'round her desire. She felt it tug at her inner walls, each pert nipple, and lung as if they were all connected.  _It HAS been a long time_ , she conceded to herself, before the internal struggle even began. (Sigh) _I need to work on my willpower_.   
  
"Is this how you want me?" She whispered into his ear, lips and teeth grazing his skin. Fire blazed in his belly as his blood rushed to his breeches. She flitted her tongue against his lobe, then tugged it between her teeth, eliciting a loud moan that surprised her enough to drop her head.  
  
She took the moment to study his features, like she had done so many times during war counsel or across the dining hall or on the training field when he was teaching recruits to fight abomi-......  _Fuck my magic_ ; The mantra of a Evelyn Trevelyan.


	3. Chapter 3

She stared into him, eyes piercing, _what is she looking at?! Looking for?!_  
  
She pressed her lips into his ear again, making him twitch. "Will you take me, Templar?"  
  
His breath hitched, his eyelids widening as he felt another twinge in his groin. _Maker, What kind of sick fuck am I_? He loosened his grip on her shoulders, conceding slowly and reluctantly. He pushed himself away and tried to steady his shaky breath, eyes cast aside. He didn't dare look her in the face. _SHAME_ , he thought, _Shame is what froze me in place._  
  
She stared almost through him, holding her burning gaze on his eyes. She sat up urgently, face pale, despite her brightly flushed cheeks. Her chest heaved as she drew deep, uneasy breaths. She finally broke gaze and put a hand to her heart, her robes were suffocating, or was that her anxiety? _What the fuck just happened_? She spent a few moments looking away before she chanced a glance at her flustered commander. _Did I not turn him on?_ Her eyes fell to his waistline and her flush deepened, _that wasn't the problem_ , her eyes rolled off of him. She clenched her thighs together, feeling a familiar hunger taking hold. Starvation, really.  
  
Her mana was returning and it brought with it a naughty idea that swept waves of excitement over her skin, leaving prickled hairs in its wake. "I could be the dominant one, if you prefer." She let a little ball of electricity form in her hand, wildly whipping and cracking like a tiny storm.  
  
His eyes shot up to meet hers, an amber glow, wide and searching through a sea of green. Quirked brow and narrowed eyes scanned her face.  _Did I hear that right? Is this a bad joke? Is she toying with me?_  
  
She could see the gears turning, his eyes almost frantic in their movement across her face. _He's still not certain_. Relinquishing her hold on his widened pupils, she swept her green orbs down his handsome face. She followed a chiseled jaw line, admiring his golden stubble and remembering the brush of it against her swollen pout. A cole-like poem rang in her head as she found new focus on the long scar splitting his right upper lip. 'Perplexed ponderings perched upon pursed lips.' _He needs another hint_. She took a deep breath, her breasts tingling as her robes clung tightly to her rising chest. She slowly  licked her bottom lip with the flat of her tongue and rolled it into her mouth, before sinking her teeth into the rough, ruby flesh. She pushed her lips back out into a pout, teeth gently scraping, and looked up longingly from beneath heavy lashes.  
  
Cullen's eyes widened and jaw clamped shut as he took in a sharp breath of air through his nose. His cock jumped against his constricting breeches and for some moments he forgot to exhale (or blink.) Growing more confident, Evelyn tilted her head back enticingly, hair falling behind her, exposing the delicate line of her neck and shoulder, her shapely collar bone, her soft moon kissed skin. Cullen suddenly remembered to breath, a deep gasping, sputter of a breath accompanied by a scarlet flush creeping up his neck. Seeing him so bothered sent a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, and try as she might, Evelyn couldn't stifle the chuckle that slipped off her tongue. His body jerked; startled, and now, very embarrassed.  
  
"You're a demon," Cullen glowered rising to his feet and brushing off the dirt.  
  
Evelyn brought her hands to her mouth, failing miserably to suppress her laughter as she clammered after him. She had not intended to ruin things with her poor sense of humor. Cullen was not amused.  
  
"You think it's funny to get me all worked up like this? Is it a game for you? To tease me like this, with your tongue and teeth and lips?" Her laughing ceased, genuine curiosity claiming her features, still half hidden behind spell-stained hands. "That's a cruel form of punishment: mockery; temptation; more mockery. Not to mention a dangerous one. You have more faith in me than I do myself to believe I can hold back my most primal urges." Her eyelids shot open, he was showing all his cards, but this confession was starting to be a real mood killer.

She tilted her head to the side, "What makes you think I wanted you to resist your primal urges?"  
  
"Just STOP. I can't have you," (wait, what?) "And you know it. That's why you swing your ass in and out of the war room every day on purpose, just to see if you can catch me staring." (Well, that part is true.) "It is maddening! Your shameless flirting. Asking about vows of celibacy. Suggesting we should 'spend more time together.' hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge."  
  
"You said you liked that idea," she said coyly, "granted this isn't exactly what I had in mind," she gestured to the dark, dank cave. "AND, l assure you, Commander," she rolled his title around her tongue sensually, "you CAN have me." She traced her fingers down the length of her torso, hips, and thighs.  
  
"ENOUGH! Stop toying with me, Evelyn!" She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips. "I'm not some plaything for you to wind up and parade around. I know it amuses you a great deal as a former circle mage to have the former Templar under your thumb, and you're probably used to getting what you want, but I am sorry to inform you, Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan, that I am not here for your amusement." His voice was huskier than usual, his Fereldan accent flaring up with his temper; his vowels deliciously elongated. Maker, it was hot.  
  
"Hm. So... tell me, Cullen," his breath caught in his throat a moment, she so rarely called him Cullen. "Since you're so convinced you can't, if you _could_ have me, what would you do?"  
  
"More tricks? I thought I was clear-"  
  
She shook her head. "No tricks," she said softly, "There were never any tricks. Only your own doubts."  
  
Uncertainty still flickered in his eyes like self fulfilling prophecy. "You mean if you weren't the Herald," he started slowly, then picked up the pace, "or the Inquisitor, or the single most important person in all of Thedas, AND you were completely, undeniably, unattached?"  
  
The last part was intriguing, but tired of idle chatter, she played along, nodding slowly and deliberately, like a little bow. "If I were just a woman," heat blossomed in her chest as she stared him down, "what would you do?"  
  
A flash of blonde curls was advancing on her; the lion finally unleashed. He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her body against his staring into her face. Her game was over, her facade breaking as she pressed a finger into the worry lines around his mouth, so riddled with anguish. "Andraste preserve me, Evelyn, if this is some sick twisted prank."  
  
Words would never suffice. She stretched out her slender fingers on either side of his face and drew him into her. Lips crashing roughly as they finally met. Her full bottom lip nestled between his whilst his scarred lip sat atop hers. The air around them felt like it was humming, like time itself had stopped.  They fit so snugly together, neither seemed willing to move, a moment in time stolen away.  
  
But then, the whirl of the world caught up to the them, Cullen broke the kiss first, drawing a disappointed puff from her lips. She looked up from under heavy lids to see Cullen's smile, always a rare find, but this one was especially remarkable: genuine, content, and even a little smug. She let her hands fall from his face and ran them over the broad muscles of his chest, fingers playing at his collar bone.  
  
He lifted a hand into her hair, cradling her head and leaned his face into the crook of her neck. His other arm still fastened about her waist. "If you were just a woman," he breathed into her ear, "I could resist your charms." His breath was hot against her neck, sending chills throughout the rest of her. He pressed into her further, softly urging her to move, slow swaying steps. "But, you aren't just any woman. And if a woman as exquisite as yourself would allow me to know her, I would be inclined to take my time." Her back met cold stone, causing her a small start, and sending her hands grasping at his shoulders for support, a deep velvety chuckle swept over her and she thought she might melt on the spot. Warm firelight danced and reflected in his eyes, he kissed her softly, sweetly.

It was nice. But she didn't want nice.

Pressed between his taut, fevered body and the icy cavern wall, Evelyn's body pulsed with stimulation. His soft kisses weren't enough. She nipped at him and pried him open until she was exploring every corner. Their tongues tangled together, her kisses growing more desperate and urgent. His mouth left hers and trailed down her neck, now biting and sucking and kissing. "You shouldn't rush me," he chided in between forceful kisses.  Her head and nethers were swimming in anticipation. She couldn't form audible thoughts if she wanted to. Without objection, Cullen pressed on.  
"I would want to savor the taste of your skin on my tongue; the tiny sounds you can't swallow back." Her breathing picked up speed. Cullen slipped his hands off her waist and head, grabbing her wrists and stretching them far above her head. He pinned them easily with one if his large hands, leaving the other to roam freely. "I would trace your curves to memory," running a hand over her breast and down her waist, hips, thighs, even through her robes his touch made her ache. "First with my fingers," he moved his free hand over her hot center, gently grazing the fabric to be certain his presence was barely known, "then my mouth." Evelyn's eyes widened; great black opals with ringlets of emerald green. Her cunt throbbed for him, muscles clenching against her will, _can I come from this? He's barely touched me_. Her hips bucked forward and rolled her heat against his calloused hand, a low moan escaping her lips. Fire swarmed her cheeks and chest and crux. Liquid lust pooled in her smallclothes, and she worried he could he feel it through her robes. A wolfish grin crept up his face, _AFFIRMATIVE_. "Ah-" he sighed against her skin, "if only I could have you."  
"For fuck's sake, Cullen!" Evelyn squirmed under his grasp, working a hand free and hooking it into his waistband, yanking his body to hers. His rock hard erection ground into her molten apex. She threw her head back with a wail and Cullen layed seige to her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping. He growled against her skin with a roll of his hips, releasing her hand and tearing at the laced bodice of her robes. Evelyn wasted no time, free hands plucking at the laces of his leather breeches, pulled tight against the force held within. She struggled, fumbled with them, clumsy, hasty, and rather distracted, by the teeth and tongue tugging at her neck. He finally loosened the bodice enough to set her aching breasts free. The cold air stole her breath as it swept over her burning flesh, prickling at the icy touch. Cullen's hands cupped her roughly, possessively, squeezing and eliciting a squeal. He stifled a husky chuckle into her skin, the vibrations echoed through her chest all the way to her toes, her knee gave a twitching jerk. "I can't take much more of this," she admitted breathlessly, both to him and herself.  
He groaned longingly, squeezing her hard and rutting himself into her valley. Evelyn slid her hands from his laces, gripping his hips, now digging into her, and let loose a string of blasphemies. 

Her words had him ready to spill into his smallclothes. _Steel yourself._ He eased back and she took a deep gasping breath quickly followed by a low sighing moan as his mouth went back to work on her soft skin. He trailed kisses down her neckline, onto her chest, one breast down to the beautiful pink tip. He licked around her pale areola, the skin bristling as his wet hot tongue was replaced by icy void. Her nipple stiffened as he teased around it, growing larger and harder, much like himself. He flitted his tongue against it, then seized it in his mouth, tugging and sucking and lapping and teething. He brought a calloused thumb and forefinger together to mimic his actions on the twin peaks. Tweaking and twisting and pinching and squeezing.  
  
Her breaths came in pants now, her hands clenched on the stalagmites at her sides for support, knees wobbly, knuckles white. "Cullen, I'm falling..."  
  
Cullen stopped, panting against her breast. _Falling... for me?_ His heart jumped. Evelyn slid down the wall before him. _Shit, NO, actually falling._


	4. Chapter 4

She huffed against the wall, crumpled and disheveled, "sorry."  
  
He shook his head gently with a soft smile and knelt before her. He grabbed the fabric of her robes just above the ankle on either leg and shimmied it up to her knees, admiring the seldom viewed skin beneath as it was slowly revealed to him. Then again above the knee, hiking it up to her hips. She shuddered under his stare, and grabbed at the bunched fabric, pulling it towards her, eager to find release. Another small chuckle as he moved his hands to her backside and lifted her into his kiss. She threw her arms around his neck and felt a rush of air as he stood, his hands planted firmly under her posterior, periodically kneeding and squeezing the flabby tissue. He made her feel weightless, and indeed, with the adrenaline and magic raging through his muscles, she did. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and thanked him for his foresight with a slow grind against his most favored appendage, swallowing his appreciative moans.  
  
He walked them over to a jutted rock wall about thigh high and perched her on the ledge. The wall behind her close enough to lean on. She looped a single finger into the laces she had fought with before and tugged them loose, one by one, the fingers of her other hand walking along the bone of his hip, up his defined abs, then sprawling across his chest to wind into small patch of soft light hair, curled and coiled.  
  
His eyes were closed, a weighted sigh drifting from his lips and landing heavily in her chest. She laced her fingers around his neck and drew him into a deep, sensual, kiss; the flat of her tongue caressing his lips. She slipped her other hand into his leather leggings and ran her palm along his length. His back tightened and his fingers sunk into her fleshy thighs. An involuntary hum rolled from her throat as she sized him up, fingers unable to meet her thumb. _Maker, he's huge_ , she thought, nervously. She pulled her hand back against the laces and finally set him free, springing up like a newborn halla. The shaft was an engorged red and veiny purple. It looked painful, yet somehow beautiful: proportionate and straight, shining in the dim light, smooth tip glistening with need.  
  
"Evelyn..." his voice was hoarse and slow, his head hanging to the floor.  
  
She grabbed his hand and pressed it into her damp smalls, waiting for their eyes to meet, "I want this. I want you." She slid his rough hand under the fabric, coating his fingertips. "Whatever worry you have, whatever fear is gripping you now, release it."  
  
He stared into her eyes, a few deep breaths and racing heartbeats before crumpling her smallclothes into his hand and pulling them down her legs. She wiggled side to side, giddy to help him in his task. He traced two fingers along her seam tentatively, sending a shudder down her spine. Satisfied with the slickness smoothing out his calloused fingers, he slowly slid one into her hot crevice. They inhaled together, her velvet walls tight on his digit. He ran his other hand up her thigh and held her at the hip, bracing her as he added a second finger, she gasped a tiny breath and grabbed her gathered robes in her fists, eyes closed and head rolled back. He stroked along her silken folds with his free thumb, until it nestled into the crook housing her sensitive clit. He rubbed in alternating patterns of circles and strokes, feeling her bud harden as the muscles swaddling his fingers tensed. Her hands shot out to his forearms, searing fingertips pressed into his skin, urging him to withdraw.  
  
"Not like this," she pleaded, "I want all of you." Untamed desire burned in her eyes and Cullen had a fleeting thought that she was, in fact, a desire demon, here to play out his deepest unfulfilled fantasies, but the scorch of his own flesh in her grip had him rearing back, leaving him with thickly honey-coated fingers. "I'm so sorry," she hurried out of her mouth, bringing the offending hand, clenched in a fearful fist, to her exposed chest "That doesn't usually happen."  
  
Cullen huffed a tiny laugh, "I think thats my line." He reached out for her guilty hand and pushed a gentle kiss into the knuckles. "Forgotten."  
  
"My Knight," she smiled, then immediately blushed at the slip up of calling him hers. _Perhaps he won't notice?_  
  
"My Queen."  
  
_Fat chance_. Still her smile did not fade. Whatever tomorrow held, tonight he would be hers. She grabbed him by the ribs and dragged him into her, fevered kisses breaking only for panted breaths. He pushed her robes up until they nestled just under her bottom, and, THEY MET - briefly. Fleeting, ghosting touches as he bounced freely between them. Her hands slid down his backside, squeezing the tight muscular cheeks, then she pulled him forward, causing a satisying (and slightly painful) collision. Cullen buried his face into her chest, grabbing her breasts and lifting them towards his mouth to stifle the noises he couldn't contain. His hips were rolling against her, causing his rigid length to graze along her entrance, occasionally rubbing against her clit. It was pleasure and pain rolled together; teasing and over stimulating; too much and still not enough.  
  
With a little growl she managed to reach a hand between them and push his head down to the mouth of her flooded canal. The next rock of his hips, _SWEET MAKER, judge me whole!_  
  
Cullen was paralyzed, the tip of his dick in a death grip. "Maker's breath," he stammered, "you are so tight." Reoccuring fear surfaced and he stilled. Doubt clogging his thoughts; _she's so much younger than you._ He tried not to move, body pulsing under the restraint. "Are you -" he rethought his words, "have you done this before?"  
  
Evelyn puffed out a few breathless giggles. "Yes," she tittered, "it's been... some time. And you are..." _how to put this_ , "rather well equipped." A choked laugh fell against her skin. Echoing vibrations had her flexing around his shaft. They shared a slight shudder and a moment's pause. "Please," she cooed, fingers trailing up his chest, "let's keep going." She lifted his chin, leading him into a long slow kiss.  Unusually agile ankles hooked around his thick thighs and pushed his breeches to the ground, slowly easing him forward.  
  
He hummed into her kisses as they wove together, a delicate task requiring a few pauses while she tried to accommodate his size. Her fingers dug into his shoulders; her heels into his hamstrings, until their junctures met at the hilt. Evelyn groaned, fuller than she'd ever been before, ready to split at the seams. Cullen stood still, statuesque and fully sheathed, waiting for her tension to ease, and trying not to expend himself. She placed a reassuring hand on his abs, bidding him to move. His pace was painstakingly slow at first, withdrawing from her daintily, but she encouraged him with eager hands and prodding feet. His thrusts picked up speed, and she was forced to abandon his swollen lips, breathing heavily in between whimpers and sighs.  
  
Cullen was grateful for the breathing room. He panted over her shoulder as sweat beaded up on his foreahead. Numbness crawled into his toes, his composure was cracking. He leaned in and placed a forearm on the wall behind her, supporting himself and keeping her skin off the stone. The shift changed their angle; suddenly, she could feel his hard pelvis rocking against her aching nub. She lifted her knees to his sides and he crashed into her, a deep plunge followed by her roaring moan. His body stroked against her clit once more and her mind went blank. Cullen's eyes clamped shut, he wrapped the inquisitor in strong arms and ground into her, harder, faster, deeper. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Her back arched into him. Her whole body hardened; muscles coiling around muscles, tightening, twisting, trembling. White hot lightning explodes behind her eyes as she comes undone. Shockwaves slice through her veins,  spasms seize all strength, she's in total surrender. He joins her bliss: tremors wreaking havoc on his cock and fire blazing from his gut. He rides out the slowing waves, still curled around her. As they catch their breath they come to rest as a single mass of sweat-soaked hair & twitching flesh.

Evelyn presses a tender kiss into his glistening bicep, a gentle indicator she's ready to part. Slowly he slides from her slippery chamber, and she dips a toe towards the floor, easing herself from her rocky perch until both feet are solid on ground. Unstable legs quiver under her weight, she holds him against her until the trembling eases. Cullen loosens their embrace to gaze upon her face, he brushes the damp locks of red hair out of the way. Swollen lips, splotchy red cheeks, glowing pearls of sweat at her hairline, but completely at ease.

"What?" She asks in a hushed voice. Feeling self-conscious she begins tucking herself back into her bodice and lacing up the front.

He lifts her face, eyes on hers, "You're So Beautiful." She blushes madly and a big stupid grin plasters her face.

"Now, why'd you have to go and say a thing like that," she smacks him in the torso and claps her hands on her crimson cheeks. "My ruddy ears on fire. Get your drawers and let's go." Her rucked robes start to fall, but as she steps away Cullen lands a hard hand against a bare cheek with an echoing  *THWACK* Evelyn leaps across the cave, rubbing her rump with both hands, she turns around to try to look angry, but her stupid grin won't be tamed even under pointed brows. "You are bad," she laughs, "I need to watch you more carefully."

"Admittedly, that was harder than I intended it to be," Cullen laughed pulling up his leathers, "my hand still stings."

They shared a smile and cozied up for the night. Eating a light meal and stoking the fire, before pushing the bedrolls together, ready to enjoy the comforts of not sleeping alone for the first night in years.

 


End file.
